


Possibilities

by occasional_boy_reporter



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Making Out, Other, Prelude to Sex, descending levels of comfort, same dialogue but vastly different feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5201600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A time capsule piece exploring some of Getaway's possible motives for courting Tailgate before the reveal was made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possibilities

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is essentially a time capsule exploring some best and worst case scenarios evolving from Getaway and Tailgate’s interactions in the IDW More Than Meets the Eye comics. A chance to document our deepest fears and brightest optimism concerning this strange relationship before we learn where things are really headed when #47 comes out.  
> The dialogue remains the same, as does Tailgate, throughout but each segment differs in mood, motive, and level of comfort based on Getaway's thoughts and actions. Fluff at the top and growing darker downward.  
> If you can think of further tags you feel should be added, feel free to suggest them in the comments.
> 
> EDIT 11/23/2015: GEESUS-MORTHER-EFFING-TABLE-FLIPPING-TAP-DANCING-CHRIST! It's going down. If you haven't read the full preview for #47 yet, pop over and read it and just feel your heart crumbling. 
> 
> http://www.seibertron.com/transformers/news/idw-transformers-more-than-meets-the-eye-47-full-preview/34268/
> 
> So many things of note! But those (SPOILER!!!!) needles have got me wrecked. I feel like the community will be writing some amnesiac Cygate fics soon.

**Good Intentions**

  “How are you holding up, Scout?” Getaway takes a moment to pull his face away from Tailgate’s. A single streak of yellow mars the minibot’s white chin, a sure sign that their once cautious nuzzles have turned rather heated rather quickly. Getaway carefully strokes large hands along the shoulders of the vibrating mini in his lap.

   “I’m…I’m fine.” Tailgate’s vents are shaky with some unspoken emotion but his visor continues to light up their dark little corner of Getaway’s room with excited flashes and the mini’s body never seeks to break contact with Getaway’s frame. “We can keep going. If...if that’s ok with you.”

   The M.T.O. bot has always been awkward in matters of this nature. Matters of physical intimacy and love in general. They weren’t really part of his education. Even at the full ten steps, Getaway doubted the program ever covered how to start a relationship with a plucky minibot. He does his best to soothe whatever misgivings remain in his partner. “It’s ok if you’re a little scared. I mean, you’re new to this. You’d have to be stupid not to be a little worried, right?”

   “Yeah,” Tailgate agrees with a little laugh, obviously still a tad nervous, as his hands and gaze rest on Getaway’s chest.

   Getaway’s spark goes out to the little guy. It’s clear this is Tailgate’s first time in a situation like this. At first, Getaway had suspected there might be something between Tailgate and Cyclonus but, whatever it might be, it is hardly romantic.  Cyclonus…well, it’s obvious the big bot has issues with the basic concept of friendship let alone _something more_. There’s no way he can give Tailgate the kind of affection the little bot so obviously wishes for.

   And what’s to stop Getaway from fulfilling that wish? Getaway _wants_ to be here. He _likes_ the mini. He likes that plucky attitude-the optimism. The blue and white mini was forged a waste disposal bot, what some mechs would call his Primus-given use, but he’d shucked that off. He’d reinvented himself and, in one shining moment, become the hero of cold-constructed bots everywhere! And the escape artist likes how easily Tailgate makes friends. Getaway has never mastered that. When the M.T.O. makes friends, it’s a difficult and sometimes disastrous process. And if it looks like he’s coming on a little fast and strong or subtly tricking bots into returning his affections, it’s because he is. Because that is all he knows. He has learned to live a life of subterfuge, not a life of friendly get-togethers or romantic gestures. Every bot needs companions, confidants, lovers. Getaway wants to be all those things for Tailgate.

   “Don’t worry.” A gentle _bomp_ to the underside of Tailgate’s chin has his blue visor drifting back up to Getaway’s face. “I got ya.”

   Tailgate’s response is the little sigh of a vent easing open in relief and a sweet brush of his mask against Getaway’s. They nuzzle into each other, ‘kissing’ the best they can without anything resembling lips. Getaway leans down to make it easier on the smaller bot. His hands gently map out Tailgate’s helm and shoulders.

   “We can stop anytime.” He wants Tailgate to be comfortable and to want this as well. Getaway brushes over Tailgate’s chest, imagining the beautiful spark beneath, and devotes himself to the protection of the little light that is slowly monopolising his own affections. “Remember, you’re in control here.”

 

**Stranger in a Strange Land**

  “How are you holding up, Scout?” Getaway momentarily retreats so he can gage the minibot’s reaction himself.  So far, Tailgate has not objected to any of the larger bot’s advances. Getaway briskly runs large hands along the shoulders of the vibrating mini in his lap.

   “I’m…I’m fine.” Tailgate’s vents are shaky with some unspoken emotion but his visor continues to light up their dark little corner of Getaway’s room with excited flashes and the mini’s body never seeks to break contact with Getaway’s frame. “We can keep going. If...if that’s ok with you."

   It’s all going so smoothly. Perhaps moreso than Getaway had ever imagined. Tailgate is receptive, even eager, despite the fact that they have only recently been acquainted. After all, they’re here-in this position-because Tailgate agrees to everything Getaway puts forth and eats up every bit of praise and understanding no matter how small. “It’s ok if you’re a little scared. I mean, you’re new to this. You’d have to be stupid not to be a little worried, right?”

   “Yeah,” Tailgate agrees a moment later, obviously still a little nervous, as his hands and gaze rest on Getaway’s chest.

   The minibot’s inexperience shows and it’s not surprising. Getaway initially wrote off Tailgate for his purposes because of his ties to Cyclonus but a little prying revealed the two are not nearly as close as they could be.  Cyclonus is far too reserved, too emotionally stunted, too independent to form a bond that might have deterred Getaway from seeking out Tailgate. Or have deterred Tailgate from constantly saying yes to Getaway.

   The little guy seems like a good mech. Sweet and honest and, most importantly, one of the crew’s favorites. The hard truth is that Getaway is a stranger in a strange land. True, he is an Autobot on an Autobot ship but that does not mean that he knows these mechs. That does not mean that he trusts them. He has not survived in Special Ops by trusting every smiling, hand-shaking, back-thumping mech to sport an Autobot brand. To ensure his safety, he needs an in. He needs a mech that knows this ship, this crew- someone to vouch for him if things get dicey. His time spent tortured by Tyrest is still fresh in his mind and he does not intend to repeat anything like it anytime soon. While Skids seems to have mostly returned to himself, his memory loss leaves Getaway uncertain about the speed learner’s concrete level of devotion to his old Ops buddy. A back up is in order to further ensure his safety aboard this vessel and Tailgate is not only well-liked, but uniquely vulnerable. It may seem a bit under-handed but it’s really an even trade. Tailgate becomes the cute buffer and, in return, Getaway offers the bot some of the attention he laps up so hungrily.

   “Don’t worry.” A guiding _bomp_ to the underside of Tailgate’s chin has his blue visor tilting back up to Getaway’s face. “I got ya.”

   Tailgate’s response is the little sigh of a vent easing open in relief and a sweet brush of his mask against Getaway’s. They nuzzle into each other, ‘kissing’ the best they can without anything resembling lips. Getaway redirects Tailgate’s attention to a preferred spot by tilting his neck into the minibot’s face. His hands remain supportive and firm at the small of Tailgate’s back and do not venture elsewhere no matter how insistently Tailgate’s tiny hands begin to explore.

   “We can stop anytime.” He has no intentions of harming the little guy but neither does he want to lead the mini into something he’ll regret. If this is how deep Tailgate wants to fall, Getaway will accept these encounters as the pleasure they are but also as a deeper tie to his safety. “Remember, you’re in control here.”

 

**Inculpable**

“How are you holding up, Scout?” Getaway leans back to put a little room between them but closes his optics as soon as he catches sight of the mini’s face. A single streak of yellow mars the minibot’s white chin, a sure sign that their once cautious nuzzles have turned rather heated rather quickly. Getaway tentatively skims large hands along the shoulders of the vibrating mini in his lap.

   “I’m…I’m fine.” Tailgate’s vents are shaky with some unspoken emotion but his visor continues to light up their dark little corner of Getaway’s room with excited flashes and the mini’s body never seeks to break contact with Getaway’s frame. “We can keep going. If...if that’s ok with you.”

   He doesn’t want to. He wants to stop immediately. He wants nothing more than to turn and run the other way. But this is how it has to be. He stokes the kid’s complexes and cements their bond, “It’s ok if you’re a little scared. I mean, you’re new to this. You’d have to be stupid not to be a little worried, right?”

   “Yeah,” Tailgate agrees with a little laugh, obviously still a tad nervous, as his hands and gaze rest on Getaway’s chest.

   The inexperience just highlights how much life Tailgate has yet to live. But the real problem is that Tailgate isn’t scared enough. He has no idea. None of them do. They don’t all have to die. Some are givens; Rodimus, Chromedome…Cyclonus. There are some who must be snuffed out if Getaway is to succeed. Tailgate…Tailgate doesn’t have to be one of them. But he might. Getaway might have to murder Tailgate because of Cyclonus.

   Getaway would like to avoid that if at all possible. But if the minibot is with Cyclonus in the wrong place and at the wrong time, Getaway will have to put them both down. He’ll do it. But it will be a shame. The kid’s done nothing wrong. He’s only just saved the spark of every cold-constructed bot, including Getaway! He’s only just recovered from Cybercrosis of all things! The only way to ensure the little guy’s safety is by driving a wedge between him and the grumpy jet as quickly and deep as possible. The former Decepticon’s cold rejection, or sheer obliviousness, sets the perfect stage for Getaway to swoop in and whisk Tailgate to safety through gentle strokes of his ego and physical touches laced with even the barest of affection. He may break Tailgate’s spark when the dust settles, but the kid’ll get to keep it spinning in his little chest.

   “Don’t worry.” A reassuring _bomp_ to the underside of Tailgate’s chin has a blue visor drifting back up to Getaway’s face. “I got ya.”

   Tailgate’s response is the little sigh of a vent easing open in relief and a sweet brush of his mask against Getaway’s. They nuzzle into each other, ‘kissing’ the best they can without anything resembling lips. Getaway returns the gesture eagerly. His hands pull Tailgate closer to him.

   “We can stop anytime.” Getaway holds Tailgate’s interest now but he can’t afford to scare him off if he is going to leave this ship behind with a clear conscious. Of course, it all depends on Tailgate’s choice. “Remember, you’re in control here.”

 

**The Road to Hell**

  “How are you holding up, Scout?” Getaway tears away to scrutinize his progress. A single streak of yellow mars the minibot’s white chin, a sure sign that their once cautious nuzzles have turned rather heated rather quickly. Getaway insistently drags large hands along the shoulders of the vibrating mini in his lap.

   “I’m…I’m fine.” Tailgate’s vents are shaky with some unspoken emotion but his visor continues to light up their dark little corner of Getaway’s room with excited flashes and the mini’s body never seeks to break contact with Getaway’s frame. “We can keep going. If...if that’s ok with you.”

   Oh, everything’s just fine. Getaway banishes a sense of triumph before it can bleed into his voice. Instead he shoots Tailgate a little condescension masquerading as reassurance.  “It’s ok if you’re a little scared. I mean, you’re new to this. You’d have to be stupid not to be a little worried.”

   “Yeah,” Tailgate agrees with a little laugh, obviously still a tad nervous, as his hands and gaze rest on Getaway’s chest.

   The mini has made the novelty of this situation so painfully obvious. If not in words, then in the almost pathetically halting way he caresses Getaway’s plating and the almost non-existent optic contact. Not that it’s surprising. Short weeks ago, the minibot’s affections were solely directed at a mech who is incapable or unwilling to reciprocate. Cyclonus’ glacial response has left manipulating Tailgate incredibly easy.

   He’d hoped Skids would pull through for him but the memory wipe seems to be extensive and no matter how many times Getaway ‘bomps’ the amnesiac savant, the Trepan’s Trigger fails to bring Skids back to their mission. A disappointment but not the end of the world. In fact, the longer this game plays out, the more Getaway realizes Tailgate is a perfect substitute. Tyrest had called the mini ‘the ships mascot’ and probably had no idea how correct he was. Tailgate is a favorite, an angel, a little miracle. Everyone loves him. Even Cyclonus is…soft on him. But the minibot is desperate to be more. He wants to be brave, strong. He wants to be a hero. Getaway can help with that. Tailgate can be excited. He can be prodded into actions so rash that others consider them suicidal. That is exactly what Getaway needs. And when the mission is over, when Getaway is ready to do what he does best, Tailgate’s murder will ensure Getaway escapes unnoticed. After all, the greater the crime, the harder it is to formulate a response.

   “Don’t worry.” A sharp _bomp_ to the underside of Tailgate’s chin has a blue visor snapping back up to Getaway’s face. “I got ya.”

   Tailgate’s response is the little sigh of a vent easing open in relief and a sweet brush of his mask against Getaway’s. They nuzzle into each other, ‘kissing’ the best they can without anything resembling lips. Getaway burrows a bit more urgently, eager to create this connection and tie the two of them together in Tailgate’s love-starved, little mind. His hands curl around the backs of white thighs to bring them closer.

   “We can stop anytime.” It sounds like comfort but he anticipates Tailgate’s desire to seem more than he is will carry the mini’s resolve straight through to the end.  This time he does smile as he mutters a message into Tailgate’s neck that is addressed to himself. “Remember, you’re in control here.”


End file.
